Archive News
YouÕre not one of the five-eighths, are you Charlie?
Date Published: 14-Feb-2013
When I was living in Mayo, my doctor once asked “You’re not one of the five-eighths, are you Charlie?” It took a moment for the meaning behind the words to sink in, but as soon as it did, I shrugged and smiled back.
“Well, seeing as how 90% of your clients are farmers, no, I suppose I’m not.”
“No no no!” he insisted. “You’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you?”
For a second I imagined myself sporting an extravagantly wavy moustache, a wide-brimmed leather hat and an X-shaped brace of bullet belts wrapped around my torso. What a ridiculous notion. Firmly ensconced in middle age, my life was less Brando’s ‘Whaddya got?’ and more ‘What’s for dinner?’
“No, I’m not a rebel, doc. Haven’t the energy.”
“So how did a suburban London boy end up here?” asked the doctor.
I smiled and left, sparing him the answer. There was a long queue of coughing spluttering people waiting outside, so it wasn’t the moment to settle back in my chair and say: “Well, it all started back in the Spring of 1973…”
We imagine we’ll notice the seminal moments in our lives, but at the age of twelve I had neither the perspective of hindsight nor the wisdom of experience. However, as soon as the doctor asked me, I instantly remembered the first moment I did something vaguely rebellious.
I was in my last year of Prep School, blissfully unaware that I was peaking in both my academic scores and social standing. A few months later, after arrival at Public School, I’d plummet from being a straight-A student to the bottom of the class.
From being House Captain, Dormitory Prefect and one of the most popular boys in the whole school, I was about to become a bullied, friendless pariah, gaining weight as quickly as I lost confidence. Thankfully I didn’t waste those high-flying years.
Each morning at Prep School after assembly in the gym, classical music played as the boys filed out in order of seniority, followed by the staff.
Our Headmaster was a tall thin rollie-smoker called Jock Lumsden, known as ‘Jockles’ to the boys, which serves well to illustrate how much affection we felt for him.
One day Jockles told me I was to become the boy who sat in the wings of the stage each morning, hiding behind the curtain, ready to play the music for filing out. I was thrilled. It was an honour and a privilege.
Each morning the album sleeve of the record to be played was placed at the foot of the Headmaster’s lectern, facing the hall, so that everyone might know what to expect and possibly enhance their knowledge of composers along the way.
All went well until a band called Focus had a hit with a song called Hocus Pocus. An upbeat folkish instrumental piece, it shot up the charts, blared constantly from our transistor radios, and one morning I held the single in my sweaty 12-year-old paws.
Would I do it?
Could I do it?
Would I be expelled; and if so, might that be worth it for the glory that I’d enjoy and the respect I’d earn from my peers?
For more, read this week’s Galway City Tribune.
People’s living conditions less than 100 years ago were frightening. We have come a long way. We talk about water charges today, but back then the local District Councils were erecting pumps for local communities and the lovely town of Mountbellew, according to Council minutes, had open sewers,” says Galway County Council archivist Patria McWalter.
Patria believes we “need to take pride in our history, and we should take the same pride in our historical records as we do in our built heritage”. When you see the wealth of material in her care, this belief makes sense.
She is in charge of caring for the rich collection of administrative records owned by Galway County Council and says “these records are as much part of our history as the Rock of Cashel is. They document our lives and our ancestors’ lives. And nobody can plan for the future unless you learn from the past, what worked and what didn’t”.
Archivists and librarians are often unfairly regarded as being dry, academic types, but that’s certainly not true of Patria. Her enthusiasm is infectious as she turns the pages of several minute books from Galway’s Rural District Councils, all of them at least 100 years old.
Part of her role involved cataloguing all the records of the Councils – Ballinasloe, Clifden, Galway, Gort, Loughrea, Mountbellew, Portumna and Tuam. These records mostly consisted of minutes of various meetings.
When she was cataloguing them she realised their worth to local historians and researchers, so she decided to compile a guide to their content. The result is For the Record: The Archives of Galway’s Rural District Councils, which will be a valuable asset to anybody with an interest in history.
Many representatives on these Councils were local personalities and several were arrested during the political upheaval of the era, she explains.
And, ushering in a new era in history, women were allowed to sit on these Rural District Councils – at the time they were not allowed to sit on County Councils.
All of this information is included in Patria’s introductory essay to the attractively produced A4 size guide, which gives a glimpse into how these Rural Councils operated and the way political thinking changed in Ireland during a short 26-year period. In the early 1900s, these Councils supported Home Rule, but by 1920, they were calling for full independence and refusing to recognise the British administration.
“I love the tone,” says Patria of the minutes from meetings. “The language was very emotive.”
That was certainly true of the Gort Rural District Council. At a meeting in 1907, following riots in Dublin at the premiere of JM Synge’s play, The Playboy of the Western World the councillors’ response was vehement. They recorded their decision to “protest most emphatically against the libellous comedy, The Playboy of the Western World, that was belched forth during the past week in the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, under the fostering care of Lady Gregory and Mr Yeats. We congratulate the good people of Dublin in howling down the gross buffoonery and immoral suggestions that are scattered throughout this scandalous performance.
For more from the archives see this week’s Tribunes here
Date Published: 23-Jan-2013
SLIGO 0-9
GALWAY 1-4
FRANK FARRAGHER IN ENNISCRONE
GALWAY’S first serious examination of the 2013 season rather disturbingly ended with a rating well below the 40% pass mark at the idyllic, if rather Siberian, seaside setting of Enniscrone on Sunday last.
The defeat cost Galway a place in the FBD League Final against Leitrim and also put a fair dent on their confidence shield for the bigger tests that lie ahead in February.
There was no fluke element in this success by an understrength Sligo side and by the time Leitrim referee, Frank Flynn, sounded the final whistle, there wasn’t a perished soul in the crowd of about 500 who could question the justice of the outcome.
It is only pre-season and last Sunday’s blast of dry polar winds did remind everyone that this is far from summer football, but make no mistake about it, the match did lay down some very worrying markers for Galway following a couple of victories over below par third level college teams.
Galway did start the game quite positively, leading by four points at the end of a first quarter when they missed as much more, but when Sligo stepped up the tempo of the game in the 10 minutes before half-time, the maroon resistance crumbled with frightening rapidity.
Some of the statistics of the match make for grim perusal. Over the course of the hour, Galway only scored two points from play and they went through a 52 minute period of the match, without raising a white flag – admittedly a late rally did bring them close to a draw but that would have been very rough justice on Sligo.
Sligo were backable at 9/4 coming into this match, the odds being stretched with the ‘missing list’ on Kevin Walsh’s team sheet – Adrian Marren, Stephen Coen, Tony Taylor, Ross Donovan, David Kelly, David Maye, Johnny Davey and Eamon O’Hara, were all marked absent for a variety of reasons.
Walsh has his Sligo side well schooled in the high intensity, close quarters type of football, and the harder Galway tried to go through the short game channels, the more the home side bottled them up.
Galway badly needed to find some variety in their attacking strategy and maybe there is a lot to be said for the traditional Meath style of giving long, quick ball to a full forward line with a big target man on the edge of the square – given Paul Conroy’s prowess close to goal last season, maybe it is time to ‘settle’ on a few basics.
Defensively, Galway were reasonably solid with Gary Sice at centre back probably their best player – he was one of the few men in maroon to deliver decent long ball deep into the attacking zone – while Finian Hanley, Conor Costello and Gary O’Donnell also kept things tight.
For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.
Date Published: 23-Jan-2013
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